


Everlasting Arms

by waywardriot



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, yes this is cliche. so what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: “Um, well, you… actually said what’s on my tattoo… so... thathastomeanwe’resoulmates,” Ventus gets out in an incomprehensible rush of words, feeling embarrassed and nervous.“You didn’t say what’s on my tattoo,” the stranger replies without missing a beat.(One day, Ventus doesn't meet his soulmate—but somehow, that doesn't matter.)
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99
Collections: The Hearts Intertwined Fiction Collection





	Everlasting Arms

**Author's Note:**

> this is my piece for the vanven zine, which was an awesome experience! you can download the free pdf or purchase it at-cost [here](https://heartsintertwined.net/)!

It’s a beautiful Monday morning, bright and sunny, when Ventus’s world gets flipped on its axis—along with himself, as he suddenly finds himself sprawled on the ground with his book bag spilling out at his side. It’s a terrible way to start the day, but what Monday doesn’t?

Squinting from the always-too-bright sun, he looks up to find someone with beautifully distinctive eyes staring at him, and an apology is on his lips when the stranger interrupts him. “Watch where you’re going, idiot.” 

Well, any apology Ventus was about to make dissipates with the realization that this stranger isn’t worth his reflexive politeness. Really, this wasn’t entirely Ventus’s fault, so he decides he’ll die on this hill if he must. “You weren’t watching either, asshole,” he retorts, angrily gathering up the things he dropped and shoving them back into his bag haphazardly.

With all his focus on his belongings, he doesn’t see the stranger touch his sternum like he’s been injured, and it’s only once Ventus has put his last textbook back that he realizes—he said _it_ , the white words written vertically down his back and between his shoulder blades. Finally, the sentence that denotes his soulmate, for _real_.

In an instant, he changes his mind and decides that this is the absolute best way to start his day, actually. “Wait!” He stumbles up onto his feet and nearly falls over as he lunges forward to grab one of the stranger’s wrists before he can walk away. “Wait.”

“ _What_ ,” the stranger replies, flat and testy. He spares a condescending look back, one that makes Ventus want to snap at him once again, but he suppresses the urge if only because this is one of the most important moments of his life.

Butterflies sit in his stomach as he takes a deep breath to hype himself up for this: an opportunity he absolutely can’t lose. “I, uh… well, um, you see—” he starts to stutter out. 

Once again, he’s interrupted. “Spit it out. I have places to be.”

Rude. Just Ventus’s luck. “Um, well, you… actually said what’s on my tattoo… so... thathastomeanwe’resoulmates,” he gets out in an incomprehensible rush of words, feeling embarrassed and nervous.

“You didn’t say what’s on my tattoo,” the stranger replies without missing a beat.

Nothing has ever made Ventus’s heart plummet into his stomach as fast as that did, and a wave of nausea hits him. Of _course_ , he’s one of the unlucky ones who doesn’t get their soulmate right on the first try. Once again, Mondays are the most terrible things in the world, and he sighs.

There’s no reason to continue to interact with this person who he’s now made things very awkward with, and he can tell that the last thing he wants is to speak to Ventus. Well, better luck, try again next time...

But because he’s objectively an idiot, Ventus can’t help but stupidly ask, “What’s your name?”

Tugging his wrist away from Ventus, the stranger rolls his eyes. “I’m not your soulmate, kid. Get lost.”

“N-no, I know that!” he insists, waving his hands in front of him, “I just—”

_‘I feel like we have a connection... even though we’re not soulmates.’_

That’s the honest truth, but Ventus is absolutely sure that saying some cheesy stuff like that would result in him losing this person forever. “I, uhhh, my class starts in 45 minutes and I always get coffee in the student union first, sooo…” he says purely on impulse, mentally slapping himself afterwards.

The stranger glances back at him and gives a look so blank that it’s like he’s a robot, and Ventus is already debating on the merits of self-flagellation when he finally replies after a long pause. “...I was going to get coffee anyways, so…” He sighs through his teeth and runs a hand down his face. “I _guess_ you can tag along.”  
  


* * *

  
Sitting in the coffee shop, Ventus with a frappuccino and the stranger with a—frankly disgusting—black coffee, he finds out his name is Vanitas and he’s also a sophomore. From the initially awkward conversation they start, Ventus realizes that they’re polar opposites in pretty much every sense. _‘Opposites attract,’_ his brain reminds him, and he tells it to shut up.

The odd thing is, it feels so… natural to talk to Vanitas right from the start. Sure, he’s ornery and obviously trying as hard as possible to annoy Ventus until he leaves, but Ventus persists. Quickly lost in discussion, they sit in the coffee shop so long that he only realizes the time once his class has been in session for 40 minutes.

At this point, it doesn’t make sense to not skip—so Ventus does, despite his almost perfect attendance record, in favor of avidly debating with Vanitas about whether or not the school’s famed albino squirrel actually exists and isn’t just a cash grab for selling paraphernalia (it _does_ exist and Ventus _has_ seen it, for the record).

When they finally part, Vanitas’s number now in Ventus’s phone, Ventus walks on air back to his dorm and completely forgets his second class of the day.  
  


* * *

  
Weeks and weeks pass by where Ventus does his best to worm his way into Vanitas’s life, no matter how hard Vanitas tries to stop him—weeks full of 3AM texts and giggling into his pillow and ignoring fate.

Eventually Vanitas acknowledges one of many their outings as a date out loud, and Ventus is so ecstatic that no words in the world could change his mind.  
  


* * *

  
The first time they kiss, Ventus initially stops Vanitas by holding a finger up to Vanitas’s mouth while he worries at his own lip. “Are you really okay with this? I mean, we’re not soulmates…”

It almost looks like Vanitas winces for a moment, but he recovers in a split second. “Why would I care about that?” he asks, moving Ventus’s hand and lacing their fingers together. 

“I don’t know…” Ventus murmurs, eyes fixed on their linked hands. “It’s just—I’m taking away your first kiss. It doesn’t feel fair.”

“Again, why would I care?” Vanitas says dryly as he rolls his eyes. “It’s just a kiss. Besides, I want it to be with you.”

Ventus’s heart flutters in his chest, anxious and enamored and hopeful. “Really?”

“Duh. But the question is, do you want it to be with me?” Idly touching his chest, Vanitas hesitates. “Since you’re the one who actually cares about the soulmate stuff.”

“Of course I want it.” Ventus has thought long and hard about this, but the conclusion was very simple to come to—he likes Vanitas a lot more than anyone he’s ever met in his life, and sometimes he wonders if he’ll like his soulmate this much. Can fate be wrong? “I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me for months, you know,” he chuckles.

Scoffing, Vanitas rolls his eyes and waves a hand. “Are you going to interrupt me if I try to kiss you again?”

The annoyingly smug smile is wiped off his face when Ventus leans in and kisses him first, twisting his hand in the front of his shirt to pull him in. “Nope!” he chirps.

Vanitas looks so incredibly stunned that Ventus can’t help but laugh loudly, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle his snorts. “I would’ve kissed you way sooner if I knew you’d react like this,” he gleefully teases while he moves closer. “It’s so cute.”

“I’m _not_ —” Vanitas viciously starts to retort, but Ventus kisses him again before he can finish his sentence.

He doesn’t pull away afterwards, and neither does Vanitas, not until they’re both late to class again and far too kiss-stupid to even consider going.  
  


* * *

  
So much more time full of ignorant bliss passes as Ventus falls in love with Vanitas, hard and fast and a little terrifyingly. Vanitas lags behind, emotional baggage weighing him down, but Ventus never cares. Of course, he hopes for it above all else, but he allows Vanitas all the time he needs.

One day, Vanitas abruptly sits up from where he’s been draped over Ventus’s lap as they rest in Ventus’s dorm room. “I… have something to tell you,” he mumbles, drawing his fingers down his sternum.

A flicker of concern passes over Ventus, and he hopes, like he’s started to do more and more lately, that it’s not what he fears—Vanitas ending their relationship because they’re not soulmates. Sure, Vanitas talks about how he doesn’t care about the concept, but Ventus isn’t sure Vanitas can avoid the pull of fate forever; surely he won’t be able to, either. “What is it?” he asks, sitting up a little straighter. “Are—are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Vanitas says, the words coming out in a rush, so obviously anxious. “I just—uh, well…”

“Take your time,” Ventus replies graciously. Taking one of Vanitas’s hands in his own, he fidgets with it and draws his fingers along the creases of his palm as he distantly wonders what his love line says.

Turns out, it’s exactly what he’s wanted it to say.

Vanitas drags his free hand down his face and then roughly scrubs it through his hair. Honestly, he looks a little constipated, but Ventus says nothing; this is obviously difficult for Vanitas to confess, so he doesn’t want to make it harder.

“Iloveyou,” Vanitas blurts out suddenly, which is decidedly _not_ what Ventus expected to hear.

“Huh?” is all Ventus says dumbly at first, his jaw hanging a little slack. “You… you _what?”_

Vanitas buries his face in both of his hands and looks like a wilting flower, and Ventus can almost feel the embarrassment coming off of him in waves. Actually, it’d be a lot funnier if his brain hadn’t spontaneously ground to a halt. “I love you,” Vanitas repeats, cringing so hard that it’s like he’s a turtle receding into his shell. 

Ventus is awe-struck; that’s the only way to describe it. He gapes at Vanitas for a moment as he tries to process this, and he eventually settles for just straight-up throwing himself at Vanitas, who makes an embarrassingly endearing squawk. “I—love—you—so—much!” Ventus proclaims as he meticulously covers Vanitas’s face with kisses, each word punctuated by one.

“Ugh, stop it!” Vanitas complains, trying to push Ventus’s face away from his. “I get it, okay! You love me!”

Ventus laughs, delighted, and manages to plant one more kiss on Vanitas’s nose. “I know you know, Van. I just want to say it because I can.”

Vanitas sighs and shakes his head, laying down and placing his head in Ventus’s lap again. “You’re sappy.”

“Yeah, but you still love me,” Ventus replies proudly. Just saying those words makes him feel like he’s being drowned in a wave of affection; he’s had an inkling for a while now that Vanitas is also in love with him, but having it confirmed increases his feelings tenfold. A hundredfold. A thousandfold, millionfold, billionfold—whatever.

“I do,” Vanitas agrees without hesitation.

In response, Ventus can’t help but resume his onslaught of kisses despite the renewed protests, which are muffled away soon enough.  
  


* * *

  
More months pass by, months where Ventus ignores the words between his shoulder blades that burn at night and tell him that this can’t end well.

When Vanitas smiles at him, it almost feels like Ventus’s fate doesn’t exist. When there’s nothing but them and the lack of space between them, the neat script doesn’t matter.

...Until it eventually does.  
  


* * *

  
“Do you ever worry about this?” Ventus asks out of the blue one day, curled into Vanitas’s side as he watches him play a game on his phone.

Vanitas doesn’t look to him, eyes still focused on his screen. “Worry about what?”

Nervous, Ventus purses his lips and sits up straight. “This. Us,” he continues, gesturing between the two of them. “Like, I know this whole entire thing is going against fate—and I love being with you, I really do… but what if one or both of us finds our soulmate soon? Do we just abandon this? Pretend it never happened?” Wringing his hands in his lap, he squeezes his eyes shut tight and shakes his head like he can chase these fears away. “I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you. Ever. Even if that’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Vanitas rolls over onto his back and draws his fingers down his sternum as he stares at the ceiling, an obvious attempt to steadfastly avoid Ventus’s eyes. “It’s…” he starts, and then he stops, looking as if he’s deliberating hard on something. “I haven’t been truthful to you.” 

Ventus suddenly has the horrifying thought that this conversation might be the catalyst for Vanitas breaking up with him. What if this is how everything ends, how Vanitas tries to let him down easily? “Wh-what?” he frantically asks, looking down at Vanitas. “What are you talking about? I—”

“Calm down.” Vanitas gives him a look as he sits up as well, and Ventus could almost swear he heard a tremor in his voice. He takes a deep breath that makes it look like he’s gearing up to say something, and Ventus flinches in on himself, before Vanitas does the unexpected.

In a careful motion, he pulls his shirt over his head and gingerly sets it down at his side. For a split second, he presses his hand to the center of his bare chest, then he lays it down again. “Look.”

Ventus would ask what he’s supposed to be looking at, but it’s obvious immediately. Now, he’d never questioned why Vanitas hadn’t taken off his shirt during their time together, but _this_ must be why. A line of silvery writing, neat and orderly, goes right down the center of his chest, almost like a zipper. Ventus desperately wants to feel around for the pull and start to tug it down, to feel each tooth slip free until Vanitas’s heart is exposed to him… but maybe that’s what this moment is supposed to be.

Ventus’s eyes dart up to Vanitas’s for a moment to check if this is _really_ okay, because there must be a huge reason why Vanitas hasn’t shown him his soulmate tattoo just yet.

All Vanitas does is purse his lips and avert his eyes, and Ventus takes that as the only clear indication he’s going to get. A little scared himself, he tilts his head sideways until he can decipher the vertical script and leans in closer, running his fingers along the words as he reads.

__

‘You weren’t watching either, asshole.’

__

_  
_

It takes a split second for Ventus to puzzle over this before he remembers their very first interaction all that time ago. Gasping loudly, he sits up like he’s been struck by lightning, grabs the pillow behind him, and solidly whacks Vanitas with it. “Are you serious?!” he demands. Vanitas pulls the pillow off of him and tries to say something, but before he can, Ventus grabs the other pillow and whacks him with it as well, putting more force into this hit. “You told me I didn’t say it! You suck!”

Vanitas’s mouth may be full of feathers, but he still laughs gleefully at Ventus. Once he’s thrown both the pillows far out of Ventus’s reach, he combs his hair out of his face with his fingers and gives him a _look_. “You know I didn’t want a soulmate. I didn’t intend to get so… attached.”

“Asshole. You had me so _worried_ ,” Ventus huffs, crossing his arms. “Such an asshole that it’s literally permanently written on your body.” 

He’s about to start majorly pouting when he processes what exactly this really means, and a painfully large smile splits across his face. “Soulmates, huh?”

Vanitas shifts his gaze to the side, an obvious sign that he’s too embarrassed to even look Ventus in the eye, and quietly says, “I would’ve chosen you even if we weren’t soulmates, anyways.”

A beaming smile spreads on Ventus’s face in response to those words, and he immediately grabs Vanitas’s face with both hands and plants a kiss on his lips. “Me too. Even though you’re giving me grey hair,” he hums, pecking a small kiss on his nose just to tease.

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?” Vanitas groans. The face he makes is so cute that Ventus can’t resist kissing him again, of course.

“Yup!” Ventus chirps happily, running a finger down the words on Vanitas’s chest. “Your fault for not telling me.”

Vanitas has the wherewithal to look a little guilty about all this, but before he can apologize, Ventus interrupts him—payback for all the times Vanitas has done the same to him. “I love you so much,” he sighs happily, nuzzling up to Vanitas. He presses their cheeks together and just breathes Vanitas in, so grateful to have this. “I do. I really, really do, Van.”

When Vanitas speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically soft, almost as much as Ventus’s. “I love you, too, Ven.”

Careful as can be, Vanitas laces their fingers together, and Ventus stares at their hands, mystified. Every single time they’ve done this, he’s marveled over how well they slot together, but it’s become even more obvious with this realization. The empty spaces between Vanitas’s fingers perfectly accommodate him, and his chest swells with even more warmth as he thinks about the reason why.

Perhaps he should be angrier about this—feeling betrayed, or lied to, or even scorned, but that really doesn’t matter to him right now; the love he feels and has felt eclipses every other emotion. Finally, he can let out a breath he’s been holding for months, so many feelings pent up inside of him and terrified to leave. For so long, he was desperately watching for the end, and now… it’s nowhere in sight.

It never has been, not once, and never will it be—not with his _soulmate_ , the one he chose on his own and will continue to choose, by his side.


End file.
